


The Perks of being an Angel

by freewillhurts



Category: Supernatural, The Perks of Being a Wallflower - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst with a Happy Ending, Depressed!Sam, M/M, depressed!cas, innocent!cas, the perks of being a wallflower
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-03-01 11:52:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 13,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2771999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freewillhurts/pseuds/freewillhurts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically the Perks of being a Wallflower, except with Supernatural characters. Castiel is the young wallflower who gets integrated into Dean and Sam's group of "cool kids". </p><p>Story line belongs to Stephen Chbosky.<br/>Characters belong to Supernatural.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

August 25, 1991

 

Dear friend,

     I am writing to you because she said you listen and understand and didn't sleep with that person at that party even though you could have. Please don't try to figure out who she is because then you might figure out who I am, and I really don't want you to do that. I will call people by different names or generic names because I don't want you to find me. I didn't enclose a return address for the same reason. I mean nothing bad by this. Honest.

     I just need to know that someone out there listens and understands and doesn't try to sleep with people even is they could have. I need to know that these people exist.

     I think you of all people would understand this because I think you of all people are alive and appreciate what that means. At least I hope you do because other people look to you for strength and friendship and it's that simple. At least that's what I've heard.

     So, this is my life. And i want you to know that I am both happy and sad and I'm still trying to figure out how that could be.

     I try to think of of my family as a reason for me being this way, especially after my friend Gadreel stopped going to school one day last spring and we heard Mr. Metatron's voice on the loudspeaker.

     "Boys and girls, I regret to inform you that one of our students has passed on. We will hold a memorial service for Gadreel Dobson during assembly this Friday."

     I don't know how news travels around school and why it is very often right. Maybe it was in the lunchroom. It's hard to remember. But Samandriel with the awkward glasses told us that Gadreel killed himself. His mom played bridge with one of Gadreel's neighbors and they heard the gunshot.

     I don't really remember much of what happened after that except that my older brother came to Mr. Metatron's office in my middle school and told me to stop crying. Then, he put his arm on my shoulder and told me to get it out of my system before Dad came home. We then went to eat french fries at MacDonald's and he taught me how to play pinball. He even made a joke that because of me he got to skip the afternoon of school and asked me if I wanted to help him work on his Camaro. I guess I was pretty messy because he never let me work on his Camaro before.

     At the guidance counselor sessions, they asked the few of us who actually liked Gadreel to say a few words. I think they were afraid that some of us would try to kill ourselves or something because they looked very tense and one of them kept touching his beard.

     Meg who is crazy said that sometimes she thought about suicide when commercials come on during TV. She was sincere and this puzzled the guidance counselors. Kevin who is nice to everyone said that he felt very sad, but could never kill himself because it is a sin. This one guidance counselor went through the group and finally came to me.

     "What do you think, Castiel?"

     What was so strange about this was the fact that I had never met this man because he was a "specialist" and he knew my name ever though I wasn't wearing a name tag like they do in open house.

     "Well, I think that Gadreel was a nice guy and I don't understand why he did it. As much as I feel sad, I think that not knowing is what really bothers me."

     I just reread that and it sound like how I talk. Especially in that office because I was crying still. I never did stop crying.

     The counselor said he suspected that Gadreel had "problems at home" and didn't feel like he had anyone to talk to. That's maybe why he felt all alone and killed himself.

     Then, I started screaming at the guidance counselor that Gadreel could have talked to me. And I started crying even harder. He tried to calm me down by saying that he meant an adult like a teacher or a guidance counselor. But it didn't work and eventually my brother came by the middle school in his Camaro to pick me up.

     For the rest of the school  year, teachers treated me different and gave me better grades even though I didn't get any smarter. To tell you the truth, I think I made them all nervous.

     Gadreel's funeral was strange because his father didn't cry. And three months later he left Gadreel's mom. At least according to Samandriel at lunch time. I think about it sometimes. I wonder what went on in Gadreel's house around dinner and TV shows. Gadreel never left a note or at least his parrents didn't let anyone see it. Maybe it was "problems at home." I wish I knew. It might make me miss him more clearly. It might have made sad sense.

     One thing I do know is that it makes me wonder if I have "problems at home" but it seems to me that a lot of other people have it a lot worse. Like when my sister's first boyfrind started going around with another girl and my sister cried for the whole weekend.

     My dad said, "There are other people who have it a lot worse."

     And my mom was quiet. And that was that. A month later, my sister met another boy and started playing happy records again. And my dad kept working. And my mom kept sweeping. And my brother kept fixing his Camaro. That is, until he left for college at the beginning of the summer. He's playing football for Penn State but he needed the summer to get his grades right to play football.

     I don't think that there is a favorite kid in our family. There are three of us and I am the youngest. My brother is the oldest. He is a very good football player and likes cars. My sister is very pretty and is mean to boys and she is in the middle. I get straight A's now like my sister and that is why they leave me alone.

     My mom cries a lot during TV programs. My dad works a lot and is an honest man. My Aunt Naomi used to say that my dad was going to be proud to have a midlife crisis. It took me until around now to understand what she meant by that because he just turned forty and nothing has changed.

     My Aunt Naomi was my favorite person in the whole world. She was my mom's sister. She got straight A's when she was a teenager and used to give me books to read. My father said that the books were a little too old for me, but I liked them so he just shrugged and let me read.

     My Aunt Naomi lived with the family the last few years of her life because something very bad happened to her. Nobody would tell me what happened then even though I always wanted to know. When I was around seven, I stopped asking about it because I kept asking like kids do and my Aunt Naomi started crying hard.

     That's when my dad slapped me, saying, "You're hurting your aunt Naomi’s feelings!” I didn’t want to do that, so I stopped. Aunt Naomi told my father not to hit me in front of her ever again and my father said this was his house and he would do what he wanted and my mom was quiet and so were my brother and sister.

     I don’t remember much more than that because I started crying really hard and after a while my dad had my mom take me to my room. It wasn’t until much later that my mom had a few glasses of white wine and told me what happened to her sister. Some people really have it a lot worse than I do. They really do.

     I should probably sleep now. It’s very late. I don’t know why I wrote a lot of this down for with to read. The reason I wrote this letter is because I start high school tomorrow and I am really afraid of going.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         Love always,

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         Castiel


	2. Chapter 2

September 7, 1991

 

Dear friend,

     I do not like high school. The cafeteria is called the "Nutrition Center," which is kind of strange. There is this one girl in my advanced english class named Meg. In middle school, Meg was very fun to be around. She liked movies, and her brother Alastair made her tapes of this great music that she shared with us. But over the summer she had her braces taken off, and she got a little taller and prettier and grew breasts. Now, she acts a lot dumber in the hallways, especially when boys are around. And I think it's sad because Meg doesn't look happy. To tell you the truth, she doesn't like to admit she's in the advanced english class, and she doesn't like to say "hi" to me in the hall anymore.

     When Meg was at the guidance counselor meeting about Gadreel, she said that Gadreel once told her that she was the prettiest girl in the whole world, braces and all. Then, he asked her to "go with him," which was a big deal in any school. They call it "going out" in high school. And they kissed and talked about movies, and she missed him terribly because he was her best friend.

     It's funny, too, because boys and girls normally weren't best friends around my school. But Gadreel and Meg were. Kind of like my Aunt Naomi and me. I'm sorry. "My Aunt Naomi and I." That's one thing I learned this week. That and more consistent punctuation.

     I keep quiet most of the time, and only one kid named Raphael really seemed to notice me. He waited for me after gym class and said really immature things like how he was going to give me a "swirlie", which is where someone sticks you head in the toilet and flushes to make your hair swirl around. He seemed pretty unhappy as well, and I told him so. Then, he got mad and started hitting me, and I just did the things my brother taught me to do. My brother is a very good fighter. 

     "Go for the knees, throat and eyes."

     And I did. And I really hurt Raphael. And then I started crying. And my sister had to leave her senior honors class and drive me home. I got called to Mr. Dick Roman's office, but I didn't get suspended or anything because a kid told Mr. Roman the truth about the fight.

     "Raphael started it. It was self-defense."

     And it was. I just don't understand why Raphael wanted to hurt me. I didn't do anything to him. I am very small. That's true. But I guess Raphael didn't know I could fight. The truth is I could have hurt him a lot worse. And maybe I should have. I thought I might have to if he came after the kid who told Mr. Roman the truth, but Raphael never did go after him. So, everything was forgotten.

     Some kids look at me strange in the hallways because I don't decorate my locker, and I'm the one who beat up Raphael and couldn't stop crying after he did it. I guess I'm pretty emotional.

     It has been very lonely because my sister is busy being the oldest one of our family. My brother is busy being a football player at Penn State. After the training camp, his coach said that he was second string and that when he starts learning the system, he will be first string.

     My dad really hopes he will make it to the pros and play for the Steelers. My mom is just glad he gets to go to college for free because my sister doesn't play football,  and there wouldn't be enough money to send both of them. That's why she wants me to keep working hard, so I'll get an academic scholarship.

     So that's what I'm doing until I meet a friend here. I was hoping that the kid who told the truth would become a friend of mine, but I think he was just being a good guy by telling.

 

Love always,

Castiel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was pleasantly surprised by how much people like this, so I'm more than happy to continue. If anyone wants to give me some feedback, that's more than welcome~


	3. Chapter 3

September 11, 1991

 

Dear friend, 

     I don't have a lot of time because my advanced english teacher assigned us a book to read, and I like to read books twice. Incidentally, the book is  _To Kill a Mockingbird._ If you haven't read it, I think you should because it is very interesting. The teacher has assigned us a few chapters at a time, but I do not like to read books like that. I am halfway through my first time.

     Anyways, the reason I am writing to you is because I saw my brother of television. I normally don't like sports too much, but this was a special occasion. My mother started crying, and my father put his arm around her shoulder, and my sister smiled, which is funny because my brother and sister always fight when he's around.

     But my older brother was on television, and so far, it has been the highlight of my two weeks in high school. I miss him terribly, which is strange, because we never really talked much when he was here. We still don't talk, to be honest.

     I would tell you his position, but like I said, I would like to be anonymous to you. I hope you understand.

Love always,

Castiel


	4. Chapter 4

September 16, 1991

 

Dear friend,

     I have finished  _To Kill a Mockingbird._ It is now my favorite book of all time, but then again, I always think that until I read another book. My advanced english teacher asked me to call him "Bobby" when we're not in class, and he gave me another book to read. He says that I have a great skill at reading and understanding language, and he wanted me to write an essay about  _To Kill a Mockingbird_. _  
_

I mentioned this to my mom, and she asked why Bobby didn't recommend that I just take a sophomore or junior english class. And I told her that Bobby said that these were basically the same classes with more complicated books, and that it wouldn't help me. My mom said that she wasn't sure and would talk to him during open house. Then, she asked me to help her by washing the dishes, which I did.

     Honestly, I don't like doing the dishes. I like eating with my fingers and off napkins, but my sister says that doing so is bad for the environment. She is a part of the Earth Day Club here in high school, and that is where she meets the boys. They are all very nice to her, and I don't really understand why except maybe the fact that she is pretty. She really is mean to these boys.

     One boy has it particularly hard. I won't tell you his name. But I will tell you all about him. He has very nice brown hair, and he wears it long with a ponytail. I think he will regret this when he looks back on his life. He is always making mix tapes for my sister with very specific themes. One was called "Autumn Leaves." He included many songs by the Smiths. He even hand-colored the cover. After the movie he rented was over, and he left, my sister gave me the tape.

     "Do you want this, Cas?"

     I took the tape, but I felt weird about it because he had made it for her. But I listened to it. And I loved it very much, These is one song called "Asleep" that I would like you to listed to. I told my sister about it. And a week later she thanked me because when this boy asked her about the tape, she said exactly what I said about the song "Asleep," and this boy was very moved by how much it meant to her. I hope this means I will be good at dating when the time comes.

     I should stick to the subject, though. That is what my teacher Bobby tells me to do because I write kind of the way I talk. I think that is why he wants me to write that essay about _To Kill a Mockingbird._

     This boy who likes my sister is always respectful to my parents. My mom likes him very much because of this. My dad thinks he's soft. I think that's why my sister does what she does to him.

     This one night, she was saying very mean things about how he didn't stand up to the class bully when he was fifteen or something like that. To tell you the truth, I was just watching the movie he had rented, so I wasn't paying very close attention to their fight. They fight all the time, so I figured that the movie was at least something different, which it wasn't because it was a sequel.

     Anyway, after she leaned into him for a bout four movie scenes, which I guess is about ten minutes or so, he started crying. Crying very hard. Then, I turned around, and my sister pointed at me.

     "You see. Even Castiel stood up to his bully. You see."

     And this guy got really red-faced. And he looked at me. Then, he looked at her. And he wound up and hit her hard across the face. I mean hard. I just froze because I couldn't believe he did it. It was not like him at all to hit anybody. He was the boy that made mix tapes with themes and hand-colored covers until he hit my sister and stopped crying.

     The weird part is that my sister didn't do anything. She just looked at him very quietly. It was so weird. My sister goes crazy if you eat the wrong kind of tuna, but here was this guy hitting her, and she didn't say anything. She just got soft and nice. And she asked me to leave, which I did. After the boy had left, she said that they were "going out" and not to tell mom or dad what happened.

     I guess he stood up to his bully. And I guess that makes sense.

     That weekend, my sister spent a lot of time with this boy. And they laughed a lot more than they usually did. On Friday night, I was reading my new book, but my brain got tired, so I decided to watch some television instead. And I opened the door to the basement, and my sister and this boy were naked.

     He was on top of her, and her legs were draped over either side of the couch. And she screamed at me in a whisper.

     "Get out. You pervert."

     So, I left. The next day, we all watched my brother play football. And my sister invited this boy over. I am not sure when he left the previous night. They held hands and acted like everything was happy. And this boy said something about how the football team hasn't been the same since my brother graduated, and my dad thanked him. And when the boy left, my dad said that this boy was becoming a fine young man who could carry himself. And my mom was quiet. And my sister looked at me to make sure I wouldn't say anything. And that was that.

     "Yes. He is." That's all my sister could say. And I could see this boy at home doing his homework and thinking about my sister naked. And I could see them holding hands at football games that they do not watch. And I could see this boy throwing up in the bushes at a party house. And I could see my sister putting up with it. 

     And I felt very bad for both of them.

 

Love always,

Castiel


	5. Chapter 5

September 18, 1991

Dear friend,

            I never told you that I am in shop class, did I? Well, I am in shop class, and it is my favorite class next to Bobby’s advanced English class. I wrote the essay for _To Kill a Mockingbird_ last night, and I handed it in to Bobby this morning. We are supposed to talk about it tomorrow during lunch period. The point, though, is that there is a guy in shop class named “Nothing.” I’m not kidding. His name is “Nothing.” And he is hilarious. “Nothing” got his name when kids used to tease him in middle school. I think he’d a senior now. The kids started calling him Sammy when his real name is Sam. And “Nothing” told these kids, “Listen, you either call me Sam, or you call me nothing.”

            So the kids started calling him “Nothing.” And the name just stuck. He was a new kid in the school district at the time because his dad married a new woman in this area. I think I will stop putting quotation marks around Nothing’s name because it is annoying and disrupting my flow. I hope you do not find this difficult to follow. I will make sure to differentiate if something comes up.

            So, in shop class Nothing started to do a very funny impersonation of our teacher, Mr. Alastair. He even painted in the mutton chop sideburns with a grease pencil. Hilarious. When Mr. Alastair found Nothing doing this near the belt sander, he actually laughed because Nothing wasn’t doing the impersonation mean or anything. It was just that funny. I wish you could have been there because it was the hardest I’ve laughed since my brother left. My brother used to tell Polish jokes, which I know is wrong, but I just blocked out the Polish part and listened to the jokes. Hilarious.

            Oh, incidentally, my sister asked for her “Autumn Leaves” mix tape back. She listens to it all the time now.

                                                                                                                   Love always,

                                                                                                                   Castiel

 


	6. Chapter 6

September 29, 1991

Dear friend,

            There is a lot to tell you about the last two weeks. A lot of it is good, but a lot of it is bad. Again, I don’t know why this always happens.

            First of all, Bobby gave me a C on my _To Kill a Mockingbird_ essay because he said I run my sentences together. I am trying now to practice not to do that. He also said that I should use the vocabulary words I learn in class like “corpulent” and “jaundice.” I would use them here, but I really don’t think they are appropriate in this format.

            To tell you the truth, I don’t know where they are appropriate to use. I’m not saying that you shouldn’t know them. You should absolutely. But I just have never heard anyone use the words “corpulent” and “jaundice” ever in my life. That includes teachers. So. What’s the point of using words nobody else knows or can say comfortably? I just don’t understand that.

            I feel the same way about some movie stars who are terrible to watch. Some of these people must have a million dollars at least, and yet, they keep doing these movies. They blow up the bad guys. They yell at their detectives. They do interviews for magazines. Every time I see this one particular movie star on a magazine, I can’t help but feel terribly sorry for her because nobody respects her at all, and yet they keep interviewing her. And the interviews all say the same thing.

            They start with what food they are eating in some restaurant. “As __________ gingerly munched on her Chinese Chicken Salad, she spoke of love.” And all the covers say the same thing: “_________ gets to the bottom of stardom, love and his/her hit new movie/television show/album.”

            I think it’s nice for stars to do interviews to make us think they are just like us, but to tell you the truth, I get the feeling that it’s all a big lie. The problem is I don’t know who’s lying. And I don’t know why these magazines sell as much as they do. And I don’t know why the ladies in the dentist’s office like them as much as they do. A Saturday ago, I was in the dentist’s, and I heard this conversation.

            “Did you see that movie?” as she points to the cover.

            “I did. I saw it with Harold.”

            “What do you think?”

            “She is just lovely.”

            “Yeah. She is.”

            “Oh, I have this new recipe.”

            “Low-fat?”

            “Uh-huh.”

            “Do you have some time tomorrow?”

            “No. Why don’t you have Mike fax it to Harold?”

            “Okay.”

            Then, these ladies started talking about the one star I mentioned before, and they both had very strong opinions.

            ”I think it’s disgraceful.”

            “Did you read the interview in _Good Housekeeping_?”

            “A few months back?”

            “Uh-huh.”

            “Disgraceful.”

            “Did you read the one in _Cosmopolitan_?”

            “No.”

            “God, it was practically the same interview.”

            “I don’t know why they give her the time of day.”

            The fact that one of these ladies was my mom made me feel particularly sad because my mom is beautiful. And she’s always on a diet. Sometimes, my dad calls her beautiful, but she cannot hear him. Incidentally, my dad is a very good husband. He’s just pragmatic.

            After the dentist’s office, my mom drove me to the cemetery where a lot of her relatives are buried. My dad does not like to go to the cemetery because it give him the creeps. But I don’t mind going because my Aunt Naomi is buried there. My mom was always the pretty one, as they say, and my Aunt Naomi was always the other one. The nice thing was that my Aunt Naomi was never on a diet. And my Aunt Naomi was “corpulent.” Hey, I did it!

            My Aunt Naomi would always let us kids stay up and watch _Saturday Night Live_ when she was baby-sitting or when she was living with us and my parents went to another couple’s house to get drunk and play board games. When I was little, I remember going to sleep, while me brother and sister and Aunt Naomi watched _Love Boat_ and _Fantasy Island._ I could never stay awake when I was that little, and I wish I could, because my brother and sister talk about those moments sometimes. Maybe it’s sad that these are now memories. And maybe it’s not sad. And maybe it’s just the fact that we loved Aunt Naomi, especially me, and this was the time we could spend with her.

            I won’t start listing television episode memories, except one because I guess we’re on the subject, and it seems like something everyone can relate to in a small way. And since I don’t know you, I figure that maybe I can write about something that you can relate to.

            The family was sitting around, watching the final episode of _M*A*S*H,_ and I’ll never forget it even though I was very young. My mom was crying. My sister was crying. My brother was using every ounce of strength he had not to cry. And my dad left during one of the final moments to make a sandwich. Now, I don’t remember much about the program itself because I was too young, but my dad never left to make a sandwich except during commercial breaks, and then he usually sent my mom. I walked to the kitchen, and I saw my dad making a sandwich . . . and crying. He was crying harder that even my mom. And I couldn’t believe it. When he finished making his sandwich, he put away the things in the refrigerator and stopped crying and wiped his eyes and saw me.

            Then, he walked up, patter my shoulder, and said, “This is our little secret, okay, champ?”

            “Okay,” I said.

            And Dad picked me up with the arm that wasn't holding the sandwich, and carries me to the room that had the television, and put me on his lap for the rest of the television episode. At the end of the episode, he picked me up, turned off the TV, and turned around.

            And my dad declared, “That was a great series.”

            And my mom said, “The best.”

            And my sister asked, “How long was it on the air?”

            And my brother replied, “Nine years, stupid.”

            And my sister responded, “You . . . stupid.”

            And my dad said, “Stop it, right now.”

            And my mom said, “Listen to your father.”

            And my brother said nothing.

            And my sister said nothing.

            And years later I found out my brother was wrong.

            I went to the library to look up the figures, and I found out that the episode we watched is the highest watched anything of television history, which I find amazing because it felt like just the five of us.

            You know . . . a lot of kids at school hate their parents. Some of them got hit. And some of them got caught in the middle of wrong lives. Some of them were trophies for their parents to show the neighbors like ribbons or gold stars. And some of them just wanted to drink in peace.

            For me personally, as much as I don’t understand my mom and my dad and as much as I feel sorry for both of them sometimes, I can’t help but love them very much. My mom drives to visit the cemetery of people she loves. My dad cried during _M*A*S*H,_ and trusted me to keep his secret, and let me sit on his lap, and called me “champ.”

            Incidentally, I only have one cavity, and as much as my dentist asks me to, I just can’t bring myself to floss.

                                                                                                                   Love always,

                                                                                                                   Castiel

 


	7. Chapter 7

October 6, 1991

Dear friend,

            I feel very ashamed. I went to the high school football game the other day, and I don’t know exactly why. In middle school, Gadreel and I would go to the games sometimes even though neither of us were popular enough to go. It was just a place to go on Fridays when we didn’t want to watch television. Sometimes, we would see Meg there, and she and Gadreel would hold hands.

            But this time, I went alone because Gadreel is gone, and Meg hangs around different boys now, and Kevin’s mom sent him to a Catholic school, and Samandriel with the awkward classes moved away. I was just kind of watching people, seeing who was in love and who was just hanging around, and I saw that kid I told you about. Remember Nothing? Nothing was there at the football game, and he was one of the few people who was not an adult that was actually watching the game. I mean really watching the game. Hewould yell things out.

            “C’mon, Gabriel!” That’s the name of our quarter back.

            Now, normally I am very shy, but Nothing seemed like the kind of guy you could just walk up to at a football game even though you were three years younger and not popular.

            “Hey, you’re in my shop class!” He’s a very friendly person.

            “I’m Castiel.” I said, not too shy.

            “And I’m Sam. And this is Dean.” He pointed to a very pretty boy next to him. And he waved to me.

            “Hey, Castiel.” Dean had a very nice smile.

            They both told me to have a seat, and they both seemed to mean it, so I took a seat. I listened to Nothing yell at the field. And I listened to his play-by-play analysis. And I figured out that this was a kid who knew football very well. He actually knew football as well as my brother. May I should call Nothing “Sam” from now on since that is how he introduced himself, and that is what Dean calls him.

            Incidentally, Dean had light brown hair and very very pretty green eyes. The kind of green that doesn’t make a big deal about itself. I would have told you that sooner, but under the stadium lights, everything looked kind of washed out. It wasn’t until we went to the Big Boy, and Dean and Sam started to chain-smoke that I got a good look at him. The nice thing about the Big Boy was the fact that Sam and Dean didn’t just throw around inside jokes and make me struggle to keep up. Not at all. They asked me questions.

           “How old are you, Castiel?”  
           “Fifteen.”  
           “What do you want to do when you grow up?”  
           “I don’t know just yet.”  
           “What’s your favorite band?”  
           “I think maybe the Smiths because I love their song ‘Asleep,’ but I’m really not sure one way or the other because I don’t know any other songs by them too well.”  
           “What’s your favorite movie?”  
           “I don’t know really. They’re all the same to me.”  
           “How about your favorite book?”  
           “ _This Side of Paradise_ by F. Scott Fitzgerald.”  
           “Why?”  
           “Because it was the last one I read.”

           This made them laugh because they knew I meant it honest, not show-off. Then they told me their favorites, and we sat quite. I ate the pumpkin pie because the lady said it was in season, and Sam and Dean smoked more cigarettes.

           I looked at them, and they looked really happy together. A good kind of happy. And even though I thought Dean was very pretty and nice, and he was the first guy I ever wanted to ask on a date someday when I can drive, I did not mind that he had a boyfriend, especially if he was a good guy like Sam.

           “How long have you been ‘going out’?” I asked.

           Then they started laughing. Really laughing hard.

           “What’s so funny?” I said.

           “We’re brothers,” Sam said, still laughing.

           “But you don’t look alike,” I said.

           That’s when Dean explained that they were actually stepbrothers since Sam’s dad married Dean’s mom. I was very happy to know that because I would really like to ask Dean on a date someday. I really would. He is so nice.

            I feel ashamed, though, because that night, I had a weird dream. I was with Dean. And we were both naked. And his legs were spread over the sides of the couch. And I woke up. And I had never felt that good in my life. But I also felt bad because I saw him naked without his permission. I think that I should tell Dean about this, and I really hope this does not prevent us from maybe making up inside jokes of our own. It would be very nice to have a friend again. I would like that even more than a date.

                                                                                                                   Love always,

                                                                                                                   Castiel

 


	8. Chapter 8

October 14, 1991

Dear friend,

            Do you know what “masturbation” is? I think you probably do because you are older than me. But just in case, I will tell you. Masturbation is when you rub your genitals until you have an orgasm. Wow!

            I thought that in those movies and television shows when they talk about having a coffee break that they should have a masturbation break. But then again, I think this would decrease productivity.

            I’m only being cute here. I don’t really mean it. I just wanted to make you smile. I meant the “wow” though.

            I told Dean that I dreamt that he and I were naked on the sofa, and I started crying because I felt bad, and do you know what he did? He laughed. Not a mean laugh, either. A really nice, warm laugh. He said he thought I was being cute. And he said it was okay that I had a dream about him. And I stopped crying. Dean then asked me if I thought he was attractive, and I told him I thought he was “lovely.” Dean then looked me right in the eye.

            “You know you’re too young for me, Cas? You do know that?”

            “Yes, I do.”

            “I don’t want you to waste you time thinking about me that way.”

            “I won’t. It was just a dream.”

            Dean then gave me a hug, and it was strange because my family doesn’t hug a lot except my Aunt Naomi. But after a few moments, I could smell Dean’s aftershave, and I could feel his body against me. And I stepped back.

            “Dean, I’m thinking about you that way.”

            He just looked at me and shook his head. Then, she put his arm around my shoulder and walked me down the hallway. We met Sam outside because they didn’t like to go to class sometimes. They preferred to smoke.

            “Cas has a Castiel-esque crush on me, Sammy.”

            “He does, huh?”

            “I’m trying not to,” I offered, which just made them laugh.

            Sam then asked Dean to leave, which he did, and he explained some things to me, so I would know how to be around other boys and not waste my time thinking about Dean that way.

            “Cas, has anyone told you how it works?”

            “I don’t think so.”

            “Well, there are rules that you follow here not because you want to, but because you have to. You get it?”

            “I guess so.”

            “Okay. You take guys, for example. They’re copying their dads and shows an everything to know how to act around girls, and sometimes guys.”

            I thought about the dads and the shows and the everythings, and the thought made me nervous, especially when it includes TV.

            “I mean it’s not like in the movies where girls like assholes or anything like that. It’s not that easy. People just like somebody that can give them a purpose.”

            “A purpose?”

            “Right. You know? Guys like a challenge. It gives them some mold to fit how they act. Like a mom. What would a mom do if she couldn’t fuss over you and make you clean your room? And what would you do without her fussing and making you do it? Everyone needs a mom. And a mom knows this. And it gives her a sense of purpose. You get it?

            “Yeah,” I said, even though I didn’t. But I got it enough to say “yeah” and not be lying, though.

            “The thing is some guys think they can actually change the person they’re with. And what’s funny is if they actually did change them, they’d get bored. They’d have no challenge left. You just have to give guys some time to think of a new way of doing things, that’s all. Some of them will figure it out here. Some later. Some never. I wouldn’t worry about it too much.

            But I guess I did worry about it. I’ve been worrying about it ever since he told me. I look at people holding hands in the hallways, and I try to think about how it all works. At the school dances, I sit in the background, and I tap my toe, and I wonder how many couples will dance to “their song.” In the hallways, I see the girls wearing the guys’ jackets, and I think about the idea of property. And I wonder if anyone is really happy. I hope they are.

            Bobby looked at me looking at people, and after class, he asked me what I was thinking about, and I told him. He listened, and he nodded and made “affirmation” sounds. When I had finished, his face changed into a “serious talk” face.

            “Do you always think this much, Castiel?”  

            “Is that bad?” I just wanted someone to tell me the truth.

            “Not necessarily. It’s just that sometimes people use thought to not participate in life.”         

            “Is that bad?”

            “Yes.”

            “I think I participate, though. Don’t you think I am?”

            “Well, are you dancing at these dances?”

            “I’m not a very good dancer.”

            “Are you going on dates?”

            “Well, I don’t have a car, and even if I did, I can’t drive because I’m fifteen, and anyway, I haven’t anyone I like except for Dean, but I am too young for him, and he would always have to drive, which I don’t think is fair.”

            Bobby smiled and continued asking me questions. Slowly, he got to “problems at home.” And I told him about the boy who makes mix tapes hitting my sister because my sister only told me not to tell mom and dad, so I figured I could tell Bobby. He got this very serious look on his face after I told him, and he said something to me I don’t think I will forget this semester or ever.

            “Castiel, we accept the love we think we deserve.”

            I just stood there, quiet. Bobby patted my shoulder and gave me a new book to read. He told me everything was going to be okay.   

            I usually walk home from school because it makes me feel like I’ve earned it. What I mean is that I want to be able to tell my kids that I walked to school like my grandparents did in the “old days.” It’s odd that I’m planning this considering I’ve never had a date, but I guess that makes sense. It usually takes me an extra hour or so to walk as opposed to taking the bus, but it’s worth it when the weather is nice and cool like it was today.

            When I finally got home, my sister was sitting on a chair. My mom and my dad were standing in front of her. And I know that Bobby had called home and told them. I felt terrible. It was all my fault.

            My sister was crying. My mom was very very quiet. My dad did all the talking He said that mu sister was not allowed to see the boy who hit her anymore, and he was going to have a talk with the boy’s parents tonight. My sister then said that it was all her fault, that she was provoking him, but my dad said that it was no excuse.

            “But I love him!” I had never seen my sister cry that much.

            “No, you don’t.”

            “I hate you!”

            “No, you don’t.” My dad can be very calm sometimes.

            “He’s my whole world.”

            “Don’t ever say that about anyone again. Not even me.” That was my mom.

            My mom chooses her battles carefully, and I can tell you one thing about my family. When my mom does say something, she always gets her way. And this time was no exception. My sister stopped crying immediately.

            After that, my dad gave my sister a rare kiss on the forehead. Then, he left the house, got in his Oldsmobile, and drove away. I thought he probably was going to talk to the boy’s parents. And I felt very sorry for them. His parents, I mean. Because my dad doesn’t lose fights. He just doesn’t.

            My mom then went into the kitchen to make my sister’s favorite thing to eat, and my sister looked at me.

            “I hate you.”

            My sister said it different than she said it to my dad. She meant it with me. She really did.

            “I love you,” was all I could say in return.

            “You’re a freak, you know that? You’ve always been a freak. Everyone says so. They always have.”   

            “I’m trying not to be.”

            Then, I turned around and walked to my room and closed my door and put my head under my pillow and let the quiet put things where they are supposed to be.

            By the way, I figure you are probably curious about my dad. Did he hit us when we were kids or now even? I just thought you might be curious because Bobby was, after I told him about that boy and my sister. Well, if you are wondering, he didn’t. He never touched my brother or sister. And the only time he ever slapped me was when I made my Aunt Naomi cry. And once we all calmed down, he got on his knees in front of me and said that his stepdad hit him a lot, and he decided in college when my mom got pregnant with my older brother that he would never hit his kids. And he felt terrible for doing it. And he was so sorry. And he would never hit me again. And he hasn’t.

            He’s just stern sometimes.

                                                                                                                   Love always,

                                                                                                                   Castiel

 


	9. Chapter 9

October 15, 1991

Dear friend,

            I guess I forgot to mention in my last letter that it was Sam who told me about masturbation. I guess I also forgot to tell you how often I do it now, which is a lot. I don’t like to look at pictures. I just close my eyes and dream about someone I do not know. And I try not to feel ashamed. I never think about Dean when I do it. Never. That’s very important to me because I was so happy when he said “Castiel-esque” since it felt like an inside joke of sorts.

            One night, I felt so guilty that I promised God that I would never do it again. So, I started using blankets, but then the blankets hurt, so I started using pillows, but then the pillows hurt, so I went back to normal. I wasn’t raised very religiously because my parents went to Catholic school, but I do believe in God very much. I just never gave God a name, if you know what I mean. I hope I haven’t let Him down regardless.

            Incidentally, my dad did have a serious talk with the boy’s parents. The boy’s mother was very very angry and screamed at her son. The boy’s father kept quiet. And my dad didn’t get too personal with them. He didn’t tell them they did a “lousy job” raising their son or anything.

            As far as he was concerned, the only important thing was getting their help to keep their son away from his daughter. Once that was settled, he left them to deal with their family and came home to deal with his. At least that’s how he put it.

            The one thing I did ask my dad was about the boy’s problems at home. Whether or not he thought the parents hit their son. He told me to mind my own business. Because he didn’t know and would never ask and didn’t think it mattered.

            “Not everyone has a sob story, Castiel, and even if they do, it’s no excuse.”

            That’s all he said. And then we went to watch television.

            My sister is still mad at me, but my dad said I did the right thing. I hope that I did, but it’s hard to tell sometimes.

                                                                                                                   Love always,

                                                                                                                   Castiel

 


	10. Chapter 10

October 28, 1991

Dear friend,

            I’m sorry I haven’t written to you in a couple of weeks, but I have been trying to “participate” like Bobby said. It’s strange because sometimes, I read a book, and I think I am the people in the book. Also, when I write letters, I spend the next two days thinking about what I figured out in my letters. I do not know if this is good or bad. Nevertheless, I am trying to participate.

            Incidentally, the book Bobby gave me was _Peter Pan_ by J. M. Barrie. I know what you’re thinking. The cartoon Peter Pan with the lost boys. The actual book is so much better than that. It’s just about this boy who refuses to grow up, and when Wendy grows up, he feels very betrayed. At least that’s what I got out of it. I think Bobby gave me the book to teach me a lesson of some kind.

            The good news is that I read the book, and because of its fantasy nature, I could not pretend that I was in the book. That way, I could participate and still read.

            In terms of my participation in things, I am trying to go to social events that they set up in my school. It’s too late to join any clubs or anything like that, but I still try to go to the things that I can. Things like the homecoming football game and dance, even if I don’t have a date.

            I cannot imagine that I will ever come home for a homecoming game after I leave here, but it was fun to pretend that I was. I found Sam and Dean sitting in their normal spot in the bleachers, and I started acting like I hadn’t seen them in a year even though I had seen them that afternoon in lunch when I ate my orange, and they smoked cigarettes.

            “Sam, is that you? And Dean . . . it’s been so long. Who’s winning? God, college is such a trial. My professor is making me read twenty-seven books this weekend, and my girlfriend needs me to paint signs for her protest rally Tuesday. Let those administrators know we mean business. Dad is busy with his golf swing, and Mom has her hands full with tennis. We must do this again. I would stay, but I have to pick my sister up from her emotional workshop. She’s making real progress. Good to see ya.”

            And then I walked away. I went down to the concession stand and bought three boxes of nachos and a diet coke for Dean. When I returned, I sat down and gave Sam and Dean the nachos and Dean his diet coke. And Dean smiled. The great thing about Dean is that he doesn’t think I’m crazy for pretending to do things. Sam doesn’t either, but he was too busy watching the game and screaming at Gabriel, the quarterback.

            Dean told me during the game that they were going over to their friend’s house later for a party. Then, she asked me if I wanted to go, and I said yes because I had never been to a party before. I had seen one at me house, though.

            My parents went to Ohio to see a very distant cousin get buried or married. I don’t remember which. And they left my brother in charge of the house. He was sixteen at the time. My brother used the opportunity to throw a big party with beer and everything. I was ordered to stay in my room, which was okay because that’s where everyone kept their coats, and it was fun looking through the stuff in their pockets. Every ten minutes or so, a drunk girl or boy would stumble in my room to see if they could make out there or something. Then, they would see me and walk away. That is, except for this one couple.

            This one couple, whom I was told later were very popular and in love, stumbled into my room and asked if I minded them using it. I told them that my brother and sister said I had to stay here, and they asked if they could use the room anyway with me still in it. I said I didn’t see why not, so they closed the door and started kissing. Kissing very hard. After a few minutes, the boy’s hand went up the girl’s shirt, and she started protesting.

            “C’mon, Benny.”

            “What?”

            “The kid’s in here.”

            “It’s okay.”

            And the boy kept working up the girl’s shirt, and as much as she said no, he kept working it. After a few minutes, she stopped protesting, and he pulled her shirt off, and she had a white bra on with lace. I honestly didn’t know what to do at this point. Pretty soon, he took off her bra and started to kiss her breasts. And then he put his hand down her pants, and she started moaning. I think they were both very drunk. He reached to take ff her pants, but she started crying really hard, so he reached for his won. He pulled his pants and underwear down to his knees.

            “Please. Benny. No.”

            But the boy just talked soft to her about how good she looked and things like that, and she grabbed his penis with her hands and started moving it. I wish I could describe this a little more nicely without using words like penis, but that was the way it was.

            After a few minutes, the boy pushed the girl’s head down, and she started to kiss his penis. She was still crying. Finally, she stopped crying because he put his penis in her mouth, and I don’t think you can cry in that position. I had to stop watching at that point because I started to feel sick, but it kept going on, and they kept doing other things, and she kept saying “no.” Even when I covered my ears, I could still hear her say that.

            My sister came in eventually to bring me a bowl of potato chips, and when she found the boy and the girl, they stopped. My sister was very embarrassed, but not as embarrassed as the girl. The boy looked kind of smug. He didn’t say much. After they left, my sister turned to me.

            “Did they know you were here?”

            “Yes. They asked if they could use the room.”

            “Why didn’t you stop them?”

            “I didn’t know what they were doing.”

            “You pervert,” was the last thing my sister said before she left the room, still carrying the bowl of potato chips.

            I told Dean and Sam about this, and they both got very quiet. Dean said that he used to go out with Benny for a while before he got into classic rock music, and Patrick said he heard about that party. I wasn’t surprised that he did because it kind of became a legend. At least that’s what I’ve heard when I tell some kids who my older brother is.

            When the police came, they found my brother asleep on the roof. Nobody knows how he got there. My sister was making out in the laundry room with some senior. She was a freshman at the time. A lot of parents came to the house then to pick up their kids, and a lot of the girls were crying and throwing up. Most of the boys had run away by this point. My brother got in big trouble, and my sister was given a “serious talk” by my parents about bad influences. And that was that.

            The boy named Benny is a senior now. He plays on the football team. He is a wide receiver. I watched the end of the game when Benny caught a touchdown thrown from Gabriel. It ended up winning the game for our school. And people went crazy in the stands because we won the game. But all I could think about was that party. I thought about it quiet for a long time, then I looked over to Dean.

            “He raped her, didn’t he?”

            He just nodded. I couldn’t tell if he was sad or just knew more things than me.

            “We should tell someone, shouldn’t we?”

            He just shook his head this time. He then explained about all the things you have to go through to prove it, especially in high school when the boy and girl are popular and still in love.

            The next day at the homecoming dance, I saw them dancing together. Benny and his girl. And I got really mad. It kind of scared me how mad I got. I thought about walking up to Benny and really hurting him like maybe I should have really hurt Raphael. And I think I would have, but Dean saw me and put his arm around my shoulder like he does. He calmed me down, and I guess I’m glad he did because I think I would have gotten madder if I started hitting Benny, and his girl stopped me because she loved him. I think I would have gotten even madder about that.

            So, I decided to do the next best thing and let the air out of Benny’s tires. Dean knew which was his car.

            There is a feeling that I had Friday night after homecoming game that I don’t know if I will ever be able to describe except to say that it is warm. Dean and Sam drove me to the party that night, and I sat in the middle of Dean’s impala. Dean loves his impala because I think it reminds him of his dad. The feeling I had happened when Dean told Sam to find a station on the radio. And he kept getting commercials. And commercials/ And a really bad song about love that had the word “baby” in it. And then more commercials. And finally he found this really amazing song about this boy, and we all got quiet.

            Dean tapped his hand on the steering wheel. Sam held his hand outside the car and made air waves. And I just sat between them. After the song finished, I said something.

            “I feel infinite.”

            And Dean and Sam looked at me like I said the greatest thing they had ever heard. Because the song was that great and because we all really paid attention to it. Five minutes of a lifetime were truly spent, and we felt young in a good way. I have since bought the record, and I would tell you what it was, but truthfully, it’s not the same unless you’re driving to your first real party, and you’re sitting in the middle seat of an impala with two nice people when it starts to rain.

            We got to the house where the party was, and Sam did this secret knock. It would be hard to describe to you this knock without sound. The door opened a crack, and this guy with frizzy hair looked out at us.

            “Sam known as Sammy know as Nothing?”

            “Balthazar.”

            The door opened, and the old friends hugged each other. Then, Dean and Balthazar hugged each other. Then, Dean spoke.

            “This is our friend, Cas.”

            And you won’t believe it. Balthazar hugged me! Dean told me as we were hanging our coats that Balthazar was “baked like a fucking cake.” I really had to quote that one even though it has a swear.

            The party was in the basement of this house. The room was quite smoky, and the kids were much older. There were two girls showing each other their tattoos and belly button rings. Seniors, I think.

            This guy named Elijah something was eating a lot of Twinkies. Elijah’s girlfriend was talking to him about women’s rights, and he kept saying, “I know, baby.”

            Dean and Sam started smoking cigarettes. Balthazar went up to the kitchen when he heard the bell ring. When he came back, he brought a can of Milwaukee’s Best beer for everyone, as well as two new party guests. There was Esther, who needed to use the bathroom. And there was Gabriel, the quarterback of the high school football team. No kidding!

            I do not know why this excited me, but I guess when you see somebody in the hallway or on the field or something, it’s nice to know that they are a real person.

            Everyone was very friendly to me and asked me a lot of questions about myself. I guess because I was the youngest, and they didn’t want me to feel out of place, especially after I said no to having beer. I once had a beer with my brother when I was twelve, and I just didn’t like it. It’s really that simple for me.

            Some of the questions I was asked was what grade I was in and what did I want to be when I grow up.

            “I am a freshman, and I don’t know just yet.”

            I looked around, and I saw that Dean and Sam had left with Gabriel. That’s when Balthazar started passing around food.

            “Would you like a brownie?”

            “Yes. Thank you.”

            I was actually quite hungry because normally Dean and Sam take me to the Big Boy after the football games, and I guess I was used to it by now. I ate the brownie, and it tasted a little weird, but it was still a brownie, so I still liked it. But this was not an ordinary brownie. Since you are older, I think you know what kind of brownie it was.

            After thirty minutes, the room started to slip away from me. I was talking to one of the girls with the belly button ring, and she seemed like she was in a movie. I started blinking a lot and looking around, and the music sounded heavy like water.

            Dean came down and when he saw me, he turned to Balthazar.

            “What the hell is your problem?”

            “Come on, Dean. He likes it. Ask him.”

            “How do you feel, Cas?”

            “Light.”

            “You see?” Balthazar actually looked a little nervous, which I was later told was paranoia.

            Dean sat down next to me and held my hand, which felt cool.

            “Are you seeing anything, Cas?”

            “Light.”

            “Does it feel good?”

            “Uh-huh.”

            “Are you thirsty?”

            “Uh-huh.”

            “What would you like to drink?”

            “A milkshake.”

            And everyone in the room, except Dean, erupted in laughter.

            “He’s stoned.”

            “Are you hungry, Cas?”

            “Uh-huh.”

            “What would you like to eat?”

            “A milkshake.”

            I don’t think they would have laughed any harder even if what I said was at all funny. Then, Dean took my hand and stood me up on the dizzy floor.

            “C’mon. We’ll get you a milkshake.”

            As we were leaving, Dean turned to Balthazar.

            “I still think you’re an asshat.”

            All Balthazar did was laugh. And Dean finally laughed, too. And I was glad everyone seemed as happy as they seemed.

            Dean and I got up to the kitchen, and he turned on the light. Wow! It was so bright, I couldn’t believe it. It was like when you see a movie in the theater during the day, and when you leave the movie, you can’t believe that it’s still daylight outside. Dean got some ice cream and some milk and a blender. I asked him where the bathroom was, and he pointed around the corner almost like it was his house. I think he and Sam spent a lot of time here when Balthazar was still in high school.

            When I got out of the bathroom, I heard a noise in the room where we left our coats. I opened the door, and I saw Sam kissing Gabriel. It was a stolen type of kissing. They heard me in the door and turned around. Sam spoke first.

“Is that you, Cas?”

            “Dean’s making me a milkshake.”

            “Who is this kid?” Gabriel just looked real nervous and not in the Balthazar way.

            “He’s a friend of mine. Relax.”

            Sam then took me out of the room and closed the door. He put his hands on both of my shoulders and looked me straight in the eye.

            “Gabriel doesn’t want people to know.”

            “Why?”

            “Because he’s scared.”

            “Why?”

            “Because he is . . . wait . . . are you stoned?”

            “They said I was downstairs. Dean is making me a milkshake.”

            Same tried to keep from laughing.

            “Listen, Cas. Gabriel doesn’t want people to know. I need you to promise that you won’t tell anyone. This will be our little secret. Okay?”

            “Okay.”

            “Thanks.”

            With that, Sam turned around and went back into the room. I heard some muffled voices, and Gabriel seemed upset, but I didn’t think it was any of my business, so I went back to the kitchen.

            I have to say that it was the best milkshake I ever had in my life. It was so delicious, it almost scared me.

            Before we left the party, Dean played me a few of his favorite songs. One was called “Hey, Jude.” The other was called “All Outta of Love.” They were both really great. I mentioned the titles because they were as great when I listened to them sober.

            Another interesting thing happened at the party before we left. Sam came downstairs. I guess Gabriel had left. And Sam smiled. And Balthazar started to make fun of him having a crush on the quarterback. And Sam smiled more. I don’t think I ever saw Sam smile so much. Then, Sam pointed at me, and said something to Balthazar.

            “He’s something, isn’t he?”

            Balthazar nodded his head. Sam then said something I don’t think I’ll ever forget.

            “He’s a wallflower.”

            And Balthazar really nodded his head. And the whole room nodded their head. And I started to feel nervous in the Balthazar way, but Sam didn’t let me get too nervous. He sat down next to me.

            “You see things. You keep quiet about them. And you understand.”

            I didn’t know that other people thought things about me. I didn’t know that they looked. I was sitting on the floor of a basement of my first real party between Dean and Sam, and I remembered that Dean introduced me as his friend to Balthazar. And I remembered that Same had done the same for Gabriel. And I started to cry. And nobody in that room looked at me weird for doing it. And then I really started to cry.

            Balthazar raised his drink and asked everyone to do the same.

            “To Castiel.”

            And the whole group said, “To Castiel.”

            I didn’t know why they did that, but it was very special to me that they did. Especially Dean. Especially him.

            I would tell you more about the homecoming dance, but now that I’m thinking about it, me letting out the air of Benny’s tires was the best part. I did try to dance like Bobby suggested, but I usually like songs you can’t dance to, so I didn’t do it too much. Dean did look very handsome in his suit, but I was trying not to notice because I’m trying not to think of him that way.

            After the dance, we left in Dean’s impala. Sam was driving this time. As we were approaching the Fort Pitt Tunnel, Dean asked Sam to pull to the side of the road. I didn’t know what was going on. Dean then climbed onto the hood of the impala, leaving his jacket in the car. He told Sam to drive, and he got this smile on his face. I guess they had done this before.

            Anyways, Sam started driving really fast, and just before we got to the tunnel, Dean sat up on his elbows, and the wind turned his shirt into ocean waves. When we hit the tunnel, all the sound got scooped up into a vacuum, and it was replaced by a song on the tape player. An awesome song called “Carry on my Wayward Son.” When  we got out of the tunnel, Dean yelled this really fun yeall, and there it was. Downtown. Lights on buildings and everything that makes you wonder. Dean layed back down and started laughing. Sam started laughing. I started laughing.

            And in that moment, I swear we were infinite.

                                                                                                                   Love always,

                                                                                                                   Castiel

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so this was a longer chapter to make up for the lack of update for a few days :33 Of course, I don't really control the length of chapters, but hey~ 
> 
> Anyways, I am totally horrible at rereading my works, and my spelling check is faulty or something, so there may or may not be mistakes. If there are, I'm really sorry! If you don't mind, please point them out to me. I'll fix 'em right away.
> 
> Thank you guys ^-^


	11. Chapter 11

November 7, 1991

Dear friend,

            It was one of those days that I didn't mind going to school because the weather was so pretty. The sky was overcast with clouds, and the air felt like a warm bath. I don’t think I ever felt that clean before. When I got home, I had to mow the lawn for my allowance, and I didn't mind one bit. I just listened to the music, and breathed in the day, and remembered things. Things like walking around the neighborhood and looking at the houses and the lawns and the colorful trees and have that be enough.

            I do not know anything about Zen or things that the Chinese or Indians do as part of their religion, but one of the girls from the party with the tattoo and belly button ring has been a Buddhist since July. She talks about very little else except maybe how expensive cigarettes are. I see her at lunch sometimes, smoking between Sam and Dean. Her name is Hannah.

            Hannah told me that the ting about Zen is that it makes you connected to everything in the world. You are part of the trees, and the grass and the dogs. Things like that. She even explained how her tattoo symbolized this, but I can’t remember how. So, I guess Zen is a day like this when you are part of the air and remember things.

            One thing I remember is that kids used to play a game. What you would do is take a football or something, and one person would have it, and all the other kids would try to tackle that kid. And then whoever got the ball next would run around with it, and really understood the point of this game, but my brother loved it. He didn't like to run with the ball so much as he liked to tackle people. The kids called the game “smear the queer.” I didn't really think about what that means until now.

            Sam told me the story about him and Gabriel, and now I understand why Sam didn't get angry at Gabriel at the homecoming dance for dancing with a girl. When they were both juniors, Sam and Gabriel were at a party together with the rest of the popular kids. Sam actually used to be popular before Dean bought him some good music.

            Sam and Gabriel both got pretty drunk at this party. Actually, Sam said that Gabriel was pretending to be a lot drunker than he really was. They were sitting in the basement with some girl named Hael, and then she left to go to the bathroom, Gabriel and Sam were left alone. Sam said it was uncomfortable and exciting for both of them.

            “You’re in Mr. Walker’s class, right?”

            “Have you ever gone to a _Pink Floyd_ Laser Light Show?”

            “Beer before liquor. Never sicker.”

            When they ran out of small talk, they just looked at each other. And they ended up fooling around right there in the basement. Sam said it was like the weight of the whole world left both their shoulders.

            But Monday in school, Gabriel kept saying the same thing.

            “Man, I was so wasted. I don’t remember a thing.”

            He said it to everyone who was at the party. He said it a few times to the same people. He even said it to Sam. Nobody saw Sam and Gabriel fool around, but Gabriel kept saying it anyways. That Friday, there was another party. And this time, Sam and Gabriel got stoned although Sam said that Gabriel was pretending to be a lot more stoned than he actually was. And they ended up fooling around again. And Monday in school, Gabriel did the same thing.

            “Man, I was so wasted. I don’t remember a thing.”

            This went on for seven months.

            It got to a point where Gabriel was getting stoned or drunk before school. It’s not like he and Sam were fooling around in school. They only fooled around at parties on Fridays, but Sam said Gabriel couldn't even look at him in the hall, let alone speak with him. And it was hard, too, because Sam really liked Gabriel.

            When summer came, Gabriel didn't have to worry about school or anything, so his drinking and smoking got a lot worse. There was a big party at Sam and Dean’s house with the less than popular crowd. Gabriel showed up, which caused quite a stir because he was popular, but Sam kept a secret as to why Gabriel came to the party. When most people left, Gabriel and Sam went into Sam’s room.

            They had sex for the first time that night.

            I don’t want to go into detail about it because it’s pretty private stuff, but I will say that Gabriel assumed the role of the girl in terms of where you put things. I think that’s pretty important to tell you. When they were finished, Gabriel started to cry really hard. He had been drinking a lot. And getting really really stoned.

            No matter what Sam did, Gabriel kept crying. Gabriel would even let Sam hold him, which seems rather sad to me because if I have sec with someone, I would want to hold them.

            Finally, Sam just pulled up Gabriel’s pants, and said to him.

            “Just pretend you’re passed out.”

            Then, Same got dressed and walked around the house to go into the party from a different direction than his bedroom. He was also crying pretty bad, and he decided if anyone asked him, he would say his were red from smoking pot. Finally, he shook himself out of it and walked into the main party room. He acted really drunk. He went to Dean. “Have you seen Gabriel?” Dean saw the look in Sam’s eyes. Then, he spoke up to the party.

            “Hey, has anyone seen Gabriel?”

            Nobody at the party had, so a dew people went to search for him. They finally found him in Sam’s room . . . asleep.

            Finally, Sam called Gabriel’s parents because he was really worried about him. He didn't tell them why, but he said that Gabriel was really sick at this party and needed to be taken home. Gabriel’s parent’s did come, and Gabriel’s father, along with some of the other boys including Sam, carried Gabriel to the car.

            Sam doesn't know if Gabriel was really asleep or not at that point, but if he wasn't, it was a good acting job. Gabriel’s parents sent him to rehabilitation because Gabriel’s father didn't want him to miss his chance at a football scholarship. Sam didn't see Gabriel for the rest of the summer.

            Gabriel’s parents never did figure out why their son was getting stoned and drunk all the time. Neither did anybody else. Except the people who knew.

            When the school year started, Gabriel avoided Sam a lot. He never went to the same parties as Sam or anything until a little over a month ago. That was the night he threw rocks at Sam’s window and told Sam that nobody could know, and Sam understood. They only see each other now at night on golf courses and at parties like Balthazar’s where the people are quiet and understand these things.

            I asked Sam if he felt sad that he had to keep it a secret, and Sam just said that he wasn't sad because at least now, Gabriel doesn't have to get drunk or stoned to make love.                                                                                                                             

Love always,

 Castiel

 


	12. Chapter 12

November 8, 1991

Dear friend,

            Bobby gave me my first B in advanced English class for my paper on _Peter Pan!_ To tell you the truth, I don’t know what I did differently from the other papers. He told me that my sense of language is improving along with my sentence structure. I think it’s great that I could be improving on these things without noticing. By the way, Bobby gives me A’s on my report cards and letters to my parents. The frades on these papers are just between us.

            I have decided that maybe I want to write when I grow up. I just don’t know what I would write.

            I thought about maybe writing for magazines just so I could see an article that didn’t say things like I mentioned before. “As ___________ wiped the honey mustard off her lips, she spoke to me about her third husband and the healing power of crystals.” But honestly, I think I would be a very bad reporter because I can’t imagine sitting across the table from a politician or a movie star and asking them questions. I think I would probably just ask for their autograph for my mom or something. I would probably get fired for doing this. So, I thought about maybe writing for a newspaper instead because I could ask regular people questions, but my sister sayd that newspapers always lie. I do not know if this is true, so I’ll just have to see when I get older.

            I did start working for a fanzine called _Punk Rocky._ It’s this xerox magazine about punk rock and _The Rocky Horror Picture Show._ I don’t write for it, but I help out.

            Hannah is in charge of it, just like she is in charge of the local _Rocky Horror Picture Show_ showings. Hannah is a very interesting person because she has a tattoo that symbolizes Buddhism and a belly button ring and wears her hair to make somebody mad, but when she’s in charge of something, she acts like my dad when he comes home from a “long day.” She is a senior, and she says that my sister is a tease and a snob. I told her not to say anything like that about my sister again.

            Of all the things I’ve done this year so far, I think I like _The Rocky Horror Picture Show_ the best. Sam and Dean took me to the theater to see it on Halloween night. It’s really fun because all these kids dress up like the people in the movie, and they act out the movie in front of the screen. Also, people shout at the movie on cue. I guess you probably know this already, but I thought I’d say it anyways in case you didn’t.

            Sam plays “Frank ‘N Furter.” Dean plays “Janets” It is very hard to watch the movie because Dean walks around in women’s underwear when he plays Janet. I am really trying not to think of him that way, which is becoming increasingly difficult.

            To tell you the truth, I love Dean. It’s not a movie kind of love either. I just look at him sometimes, and I think he is the prettiest and nicest person in the whole world. He is also very smart and fun. I wrote him a peom after I saw him in _The Rocky Horror Picture Show_ , but I didn’t show it to him because I was embarassed. I would write it out for you, but I think that would be disrespectful to Dean.

            The thing is that Dean is now going out with a boy named Crowley.

            Crowley is older than my brother. I think he may even be twenty-one bcause he drinks red wine. Crowley plays “Rocky” in the show. Sam says that Crowley is “cut and hunky.” I do not know where Sam finds his expressions.

            But I guess that he’s right. Crowley is cut and hunky. He is also a very creative person. He’s putting himself through the Art Institute here by being a male model for the JCPenney catalogs and things like that. He likes to take photographs, and I’ve seen a few of them, and they are very good. There is this one photograph of Dean that is just beautiful. It would be impossible to describe how beautiful it is, but I’ll try.

            If you listen to the song “Asleep,” and uou think about those pretty weather days that make you remember things, and you think of the prettiest eyes you’ve known, and you cry, and the person holds you back, then I think you will see the photograph.

            I want Dean to stop liking Crowley.

            Now, I guess maybe you think that’s because I am jealous of him. I’m not. Honest. It’s just that Crowley doesn’t really listen to him when he talks. I don’t mean that he’s a bad guy because he’s not. It’s just that he always looks distracted.

            It’s like he would take a photograph of Dean, and the photograph would be beautiful. And he would think that the reason the photograph was beautiful was because of how he took it. If I took it, I would know that the only reason it’s beautiful is because of Dean.

            I just think it’s bad when a boy looks at a boy and thinks that the way he sees the boy is better than the boy actually is. And I think it’s bad when the most honest way a boy can look at a boy is through a camera. It’s very hard for me to see Dean feel better about himself just because an older boy sees him that way.

            I asked my sister about this, and she said that Dean has low self-esteem. My sister also said that Dean had a reputation when he was a sophomore. According to my sister, Dean used to be a “blow queen.” I hope you know what that means because I really can’t think about Dean and describe it to you.

            I am really in love with Dean, and it hurts very much.

            I did ask my sister about the boy at the dance. She wouldn’t talk about it until I promised that I wouldn’t tell anybody, not even Bobby. So, I promised. She said that she has been seeing this boy secretly since Dad said she couldn’t. She says she thinks about him when he’s not there. She says they’re going to get married after they both finish college, and he finishes law school.

            She told me not to worry because he hasn’t hit her since that night. And she said not to worry becayse he won’t hit her again. She really didn’t say any more other than that, although she kept talking.

            It was nice sitting with my sister that night becayse she almost never likes to talk to me. I was surprised that she told me as much as she did, but I guess that since she’s keeping things secret, she can’t tell anybody. And I guess she was just dying to tell somebody.

            But as much as she told me not to, I do worry a lot about her. She is my sister after all.                                                                                                                            

Love always,

 Castiel

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eheheh, Dean in women's lingerie... >.>


	13. Chapter 13

November 12, 1991

Dear friend,

            I love Twinkies, and the reason that I am saying that is because we are all supposed to think of a reason to live. In science class, Mr. Z. told us about an experiment where they got this rat or mouse, and they put this rat or mouse on one side of a cage. On the other side of the cage, they put a little piece of food. And this rat or mouse would walk over to the food and eat. Then, they put the rat or the mouse back on its original side, and this time, they put electricity all through the floor where the rat or mouse would have to walk to get the piece of food. They did this for a while, and the rat of mouse stopped going to get the food at a certain amount of voltage. Then, they repeated the experiment, but they replaced the food with something that gave the rat or mouse intense pleasure, but I am guessing it is some kind of rat or mouse nip. Anyway, what the scientists found out was that the rat or mouse would put up with a lot more voltage for the pleasure. Even more than for the food.

            I don’t know the significance of this, but I find it very interesting.

                                                                                                                              

Love always,

 Castiel

 

**Author's Note:**

> Story line belongs to Stephen Chbosky.  
> Characters belong to Supernatural.


End file.
